Baby Steps Lead to Everything

This week’s post theme is ‘Working with Others’, and in keeping with that I wanted to write today about how baby steps lead to everything, and that once you take that first, hardest, scariest step, the rest of what you want just falls right into line.

I was pretty scared out of my mind when I started my Editing business, thinking that nobody would know I existed and nobody would even care. But I did it anyways. I made a website and started a blog, created a Facebook page and a LinkedIn profile, Twitter and Google+. I went to the bank and created a business account, just to be prepared. Those things, honestly, may have been the hardest part – preparing for something that you’re not sure is going to happen is a pretty big leap. I think that this is the easiest part for a lot of people. They buckle down, create the physical (or online) space for themselves, and ta-da! They’re established!

But I think what most people don’t realize is that the preparation is actually the hardest part. So many people don’t reach out, don’t get in contact with others, because there’s a common mode of thinking going around that you have to know people, important people, in order to get anything of real value in this world. And that’s just not true. How do you think those few you hear about who “know all the right people” got to know them in the first place? I’ll tell you right now that they weren’t born with those contacts.

Okay, some lucky few are actually born into circles where they have access to whomever and almost whatever they want. But for the majority of us, those meetings take place as the result of one baby step in the right direction – toward your goals. And that step, in my opinion, is just saying ‘hi’ and letting people know you exist.

It’s really just that easy. I’m still flattered when I see someone reaching out, saying they heard about me or saw something I posted, that they wanted to talk about their own books or working with me as their Editor. We never really know who’s out there until we pick up the phone, or open up the computer, or even walk down the street and give someone a smile and a how-do-you-do.

I remember when I found Laura Callender’s ad out calling for writers for CWC. I immediately contacted her and said I was really intrigued by the concept of CWC and wanted to know more. She responded that unfortunately there were not any openings for writers, but that a new project would be starting soon and she was looking for another Story Coordinator. So I just said yes. And our friendship grew rapidly into a super team of “administrators” for CWC, and I’m proud to say that working with her has been one of my favorite things in the last few years. Working with CWC is also one of the most exciting things I have to share with the other people I randomly meet to share skills and experiences.

Baby steps don’t just hold value for starting businesses, creating new relationships, or gaining more exposure. It works with your passions, too. I had a conversation the other day with another writer who was scared out of her mind to keep writing. She had an entire list written down of all her fears, about what continuing to write would mean to her, and whether or not her passion and her talent had any true value. Questions like: What if I’m not actually good? What if nobody likes my work? What if I never get published and I’ve wasted so much of my life on something that just ends up worthless?

I knew exactly what these fears felt like – had asked them of myself several times and several years ago. Sometimes fear is a great motivator (though I would never advise anyone to ‘be afraid’), but in instances like this it’s a crutch, a debilitation, and sometimes even a dependency. And that’s when taking baby steps is the most important thing you can do, both for your projects and your own sanity.

So I told this woman that if she let these questions hold her back from continuing to write and pursue her passion, she would never have the chance to prove these fears wrong. There were important questions here that were not being asked.

Do I still want this?

What can I do today that will bring me closer to my goal?

What have I done already that has made me proud?

So often we get caught up in the what-ifs, the large obligations of the future that scare us senseless yet are so far away that they will never even happen if we don’t do what needs to be done today to get there. Miraculously, it turns out that if you do the work, take the baby steps one day at a time, when the day comes that you reach that overwhelmingly intimidating finish line you’re already prepared for it. You’ve done the work, built your project, business, relationship, novel from the ground up, and on the way have amassed a wealth of experience and understanding that only makes sense after the fact.

We fool ourselves into thinking that we’re not good enough, that the beginning lasts forever and that the end is an impossible, terrifying ghost. I look back on the things I’ve done, the relationships and progress that I’ve made in doing what I love, and the hurdles that seemed the most difficult when I looked into the future actually turned out to be the easiest accomplishments.

I think so many more people would own their own business, or start a project, or write a book, if they really understood just how easy it is to keep going. Everybody knows these fears, and the best way to overcome them is to talk to those people, to put yourself out there and just be a human being. People like that. And when you start having fun it all makes sense why you’re doing it in the first place.

Dog Park Networking

There is a phenomenal dog park near our home in Northern California. It shares the park space with a skate park, tennis courts, playground, camping ground, tons of trails, and a tiny creek with a bridge. It’s the only dog park that we have taken dear Sadie and Brucewillis to meet new friends, and they seem to really like it. Brucewillis runs around from clique to clique, sometimes making friends, sometimes getting a little beat up on, but never taking himself too seriously. He’s a puppy, after all. Sadie could care less what the other dogs do, as long as they don’t try to take her tennis ball from her when she tosses it to the ground at my feet every minute. She’s that fast (and I don’t throw very far). They get their hour and a half of freedom and friendship, and I get to…watch.

A dog park is a very interesting environment, for a human. And there is etiquette, for those of you who don’t have a furry friend/monster. I can’t just pack up my laptop and sit on a bench, writing and working while my four-legged children run and play. I can’t be immersed in my phone, or eat my lunch. Not that I would want to do any of those things (maybe the lunch), but it’s impossible at a dog park. Or at least, it’s very bad manners, and may even be grounds for expulsion.

You must be ever vigilant at the dog park. If nature calls, you must be prepared with a plastic bag. Trust me, it’s less humiliating to hover over your dog in anticipation than to hear from across the way, “Your dog’s pooping! You need to clean that up! It’s over there!” If another dog feels like a bully, or your own woke up on the wrong side of the dog bed, you have to make sure they behave. Dogs don’t put their emotions behind sarcasm and fake niceties. If they don’t like each other, everybody knows. And they’ll figure it out. A lot of people think that the best way to handle a bout of canine fisticuffs is to scream in high-pitched tones, like Death itself is coming, run circles around the fighting dogs, and pull their own hair. While it’s an amusing spectacle, it really messes with the dogs themselves. I have seen a dog’s aggression skyrocket amidst the human screams of terror, because then they get afraid. Then they feel like they need to protect and serve. I have had to remove my own dogs from a scuffle, but it’s done with a sharp holler of their name, an approach, and a hand signal for them to lay down (they’re pretty well-trained). Then I distract them with a thrown ball or a silly dance, and everything goes back to normal.

In my opinion, the worst thing one can do in a dog park is to bring your dog out into the open space with so many trees and smells and friends, and not take them off the leash. What is the point? One lady the other day had committed this atrocious doggy crime, poor sweet dog of hers, and then got mad at Sadie for coming over to say hi. Well, I don’t need to say it, but I will. That’s what they do! Let the poor animal be an animal!

Beyond the unstated rules and regulations of the place, I’ve noticed that a dog park is one of the most awkward social human settings I’ve ever seen. Of course, the goal of going is to let your dog run around, to socialize them and give them something exciting to look forward to. A lot of people do not go to the dog park to socialize themselves. Sometimes, you’ll see the same people over and over again. You’ll know the dogs’ names, but not the owners’. You’ll come to learn the dogs’ breed, personality, character flaws, and life goals. But not the human’s. And all this just from simple observation. You can be talking with someone about your animals one minute, and the next one of you is walking away to pick up a steaming pile, or simply to leash the dog and take them home. No goodbye is required. No “see you later” or “have a good day”. It is completely acceptable to not talk to anyone at all. Even when your dogs are playing, or when yours walks up to them and tries to get that person to scratch “the spot”. Human societal rules do not apply here.

However (and thus the point of my diatribe), a dog park is the perfect place to be a complete dog owner nerd. I know that people who don’t have dogs can sometimes be annoyed by those who do. We dog owners like to talk about our dogs like they are real people, about what they like and don’t like, the cute little way they ran into the doorway, the time they did a trick and thought they were “all that”. Some people can’t understand the enthusiasm – they’re just dogs! But to those of us who don’t have human kids, our dogs are our children (I admit I wonder how people talk about their dogs when they do have kids). But at the dog park, the most frequent topic of conversation is our dogs’ personalities. We owners can talk for hours about the psychological makeup of our pets, the different ways we incorporate them into our lives and how they make us better people. It’s totally normal. We have the doggy bug. And sometimes, with certain people, you have to be careful about turning the conversation toward people subjects. It can get awkward really fast.

I have found though that if you can hone certain skills, it’s possible to get to know the person beneath the shaggy coat of hair. For the most part, as long as you keep the conversation returning to the dogs, and don’t spend too much time focusing on getting to know the person you’re talking to, you can really learn a lot about somebody. It’s a whole different kind of cat and mouse game (or dog and ball), and I have come to know some pretty fantastic people on these daily trips to the park.

The point that I’m trying to get at here is that dog people are weird. I’m pretty weird, and I love my dogs. But weirdness and social ineptitude do not exclude people from having lives, professional careers, interests, and hobbies. I’ve managed to form a little Doggy Park Network, having handed out and received business cards, met other fiction authors, learned about my new town from indirect stories and comments. And if you can network on a personal and canine level at a dog park, I’m pretty sure you can make it anywhere.